Shattered
by SorryNotWritingAnymore
Summary: An AU story, taking place just before "Gregor and the Marks of Secret." What if Gregor had succeeded to kill the Bane in the dungeons? What about the backlash, both from the humans and rats? Rated for future violence and adult themes/references.
1. Chapter 1

**Shattered**

**Chapter One: Birthdays and Banes**

"Boots! Hurry up!" Gregor called for the third time.

He had been waiting for over fifteen minutes for his younger sister to leave the bathroom, and despite his legendary patience (how else would he deal with Ripred?), he was starting to get irritated.

Thank God, Boots actually heard him this time, because he could hear the sound of the lock twisting. The door swung open, only to smack Gregor straight in the face.

"Gre-go!" Boots, dressed in the 'pincess' outfit he had bought for her, cried loudly. "I'm done!" She looked around, slightly confused. "Gre-go? Where you go?"

Gregor moaned slightly, clutching his head. "I'm fine, Boots," he said, feeling completely the opposite. "Breakfast is ready, and I need to take a shower before we go to the Underland. Remember, it's Hazard's birthday today!"

"Birthday!" Boots yelled, completely ignoring the rest of what Gregor had said. "Party!"

"Yeah, Boots," Gregor responded, smiling ever so slightly. "There's going to be a party. We bought presents yesterday, remember? But first, you have to eat breakfast, and I have to wash. Okay?"

Boots nodded vigorously and turned, running over to the breakfast table, where Mrs. Cormaci and Lizzie were cooking a delicious meal. Gregor sighed as the wonderful aroma wafted throughout the hallway, but snapped himself out of his daze. He needed to hurry, or else they would be late. He quickly rushed into the bathroom and closed the door, slumping ever so slightly against the door.

To be honest, Gregor was tired. He was tired of his echolocation lessons, tired of living two lives, tired of being a rager and unable to control it properly. Tired of worrying over whether they would move to Virginia or not. For some reason, Gregor was unable to imagine living somewhere _other_ than the Big Apple, where he had lived all his life, and not having the Underland a stone's throw away.

He shook off his rather melancholy thoughts, choosing instead to rub the fading scars on his arms, reminders of the past two prophecies calling for the Warrior. The fish paste, although disgusting to touch and smelly, worked exceptionally well; he could barely make out the suction marks on his arm, and most of the marks from the battle with the cutters had faded entirely.

Why was he so distracted today? And why on earth did he feel as if something was off, like something was supposed to happen but didn't? Gregor asked himself that question, and tried to answer it as he took a warm shower. He tried to answer it during breakfast, as Mrs. Cormaci handed him a camera and instructed him to take lots and _lots_ of pictures, as he wished his dad good-bye, as he took Boots' hand and walked down the stairs to the laundry room.

By the time Nike had come to pick them up, he still didn't have an answer.

XXXXX

As they walked into the arena, Gregor took a sharp breath. Luxa had gone all out with the decorations, and it showed. The entire place was covered in bright cloths, with long banquet tables covered in food (Gregor absentmindedly noticed shrimp in cream sauce, and immediately though of Ripred). Fifteen musicians played cheery music, whilst flyers, crawlers, and many other friendly creatures walked about and mingled with Underlanders.

"Gregor!" Hazard yelled, dashing up to them. "You came!"

"Of course we did, buddy," Gregor said, ruffling up Hazard's hair as he did so. "We wouldn't miss it for the world. Boots?"

Boots happily extended the present they had bought, shouting, "Happy birthday!"

Hazard unwrapped the present, a plastic disk adorned with figurines of animals that talked. He was so engrossed in the present that after five minutes, Luxa was forced to gently remind him that he had guests to attend to.

After everything had settled down and most of the guests had arrived, Luxa announced that it was time to dance. Gregor, not being such a hot dancer himself, quickly rushed over to his mother and sat down, striking up a quick conversation.

"Hey, mom," he said, smiling. It had been so long that he had seen his mother, who had been stricken with the plague, standing, let alone attending a birthday party. "How are you?"

"Oh, Gregor," Grace replied, her eyes shining. "I'm feeling absolutely wonderful." Still, though, Gregor noticed the slight tremors in her hands, and the way she would cough every so often.

She was not cured, yet. But she was getting better. And that was all that counted.

The children (and Luxa) danced to a multitude of songs, some reminding him of Overland nursery rhymes. When he asked his mom about it, she replied, "That's because they _are_ nursery rhymes. Don't you remember? I used to sing them to you all the time!" Gregor, astonished, simply nodded and continued to fulfill Mrs. Cormaci's instructions by taking the most pictures he could.

Finally, when the time came, Luxa came over to him.

"The next dance requires a partner, Gregor. Would you be mine?" she asked quite politely. Still, Gregor could pick up the faint traces of a blush; the pale skin didn't help much with concealing it.

"Uh, well, you see Luxa, I'm not really a great dancer," he managed to stutter out. His mom, who had caught the conversation, slapped him in the back of the head, albeit rather weakly.

"Gregor!" she scolded. "She just asked you to a dance!"

"But, mom," he tried to protest. "You know just as well as I that-"

"No _buts_, mister," she said in a tone that promised pain if he did not comply.

Needless to say, Gregor took Luxa's outstretched hand and headed out to the dance floor.

"Do not worry, Overlander," she whispered in his ear, as the dance was about to start. "This dance is relatively easy to follow. Simply do what the words say."

He nodded in response, and the song began.

XXXXX

Gregor had made his way around three times, switching partners until he came back to Luxa. The final verse began, and as he danced with her, he realized something.

Something very important.

He liked Luxa. A lot.

Or... loved?...

As they bowed to each other and straightened up, both of their cheeks red from laughter and merriment, Gregor was in inner turmoil. He knew that, as princess (and future queen, when she turned sixteen), she would be courted by many nobles and higher-class Underlanders. On the other hand, he was naught but an Overlander. But, he was the Warrior.

What did that matter, in the end? They were completely different. She was too high-up, and he was too low, for a relationship to work out, or even be approved. He should just give up, while he could.

But, as Gregor stared into her eyes, and saw the slightest hint of feeling, the same feeling he had recently discovered...

He was suddenly hopeful that it would all work out in the end.

XXXXX

Three days later, Gregor headed down the stairs to begin yet another echolocation lesson with Ripred. Oh, how he dreaded them. Standing around and clicking at the wall, hoping to "see it," whilst Ripred berated and insulted him, was not how Gregor wanted to spend his summer. No, he would much rather spend time with Luxa...

He clawed at his head in frustration, grabbing great tufts of hair. Luxa, Luxa. He really was in love with her, wasn't he?

As Gregor walked down the stairs and into the room that they used for echolocation, he was suddenly accosted by a rat before he had time to draw his blade.

"Pathetic," Ripred growled. "If I were really out to kill you, you would be dead ten times over."

"What are you doing?" Gregor hissed at Ripred. This wasn't how their lessons normally began.

Ripred gave him a sideways glance, looking around before responding.

"Look, Gregor. I need your help."

"With _what_?" Gregor snarled, trying to get Ripred off of him. After all, the scarred rat was heavy. Very, very heavy. Just how much shrimp in cream sauce did he _eat_ when he visited Regalia?

"I've brought the Bane here today. I need you to get a lantern and a blade. He's restrained, I've made sure of it." As if on cue, a snarl echoed through the small room, along with the sounds of struggling.

"I still don't know why you need my help."

Ripred moaned in frustration, gnashing his teeth together.

"Isn't it obvious? I need you to kill the Bane. Today."

**A/N: Alrighty! First chapter over!**

**You're probably a bit confused as to what's happened. This story takes place at the beginning of "Gregor and the Marks of Secret." However, it's AU. The big change is that Gregor's encounter with the Bane happens ****_after_**** Hazard's birthday party. As such, no nibblers have been attacked yet, Ripred hasn't gone missing, etc. **

**Other minuscule changes include Gregor going shopping for presents a day earlier, no Hokey-Pokey (didn't feel like including it), and Ripred's immediate request for Gregor to kill the Bane, instead of first introducing him, and then asking to help the next day.**

**Hope you enjoy this story! Please read and review on what I could improve on!**

**A/N 2: Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. I know the title doesn't make much sense. It will be clearer after the next two chapters.**

**A/N 3: Damn. This is just saying that future chapters won't have as much author's notes, and more story. Next chapter will probably be tomorrow, or the day after.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Shattered**

**Chapter Two: Surprise, Surprise**

Gregor's head was spinning.

"Kill the Bane?" he managed to choke out. "Why?"

Ripred sighed, his head drooping ever so slightly. "I tried my best. I swear. As one rager to another. I tried to raise him as well as I could, despite the circumstances. He was left with Razor, a friend of mine."

"Was?" Gregor had not missed the past tense.

"The Bane tore out Razor's throat, then tried to eat him to conceal the evidence. We found him, covered in blood, munching on his stomach." It was all Gregor could do not to throw up. "The next two babysitters respectively lost a foreleg and the use of an eye."

Ripred gave Gregor a hard stare. "Now do you understand, Overlander?"

Gregor could only nod numbly. Inside, he was in complete turmoil. The little white rat who had so desperately pawed at its mother, trying to bring her back to life, who had loved the taste of chocolate, who had been so like Boots…

What had happened to him?

The awkward silence hung in the air for a little before Ripred unexpectedly snarled and jumped off of Gregor. "Hurry up!" Ripred was agitated now, whilst Gregor's head was still reeling from all the revelations.

Too shocked to do anything else, Gregor scrambled to his feet and began to sprint away to the armory, his body going on autopilot.

"Wait!"

Gregor stopped and turned around. Ripred was rubbing his face in a frustrated manner.

"Two things, Overlander. First, I recommend fetching Sandwich's sword. It is powerful; from what I have heard, it can slice through muscle and bone quite easily. It is to a typical sword as a steak knife to a butter knife.

"Also, the Bane has grown much more than you thought he would. The sweet little Pearlpelt that you left in my care" – now, Ripred had turned sarcastic – "is now full-grown. In fact, he's about the size of your bat, Ares."

Gregor nodded, not really hearing the second part of Ripred's last-minute advice, and continued his run through the stone passageways of Regalia. Sandwich's sword, Sandwich's sword...

Where would it be?

Probably in the museum. Most likely, Vikus had left it there for Gregor to take at any time, for no other Underlander would dare to touch their sacred leader's blade.

Internally, Gregor snorted. In his opinion, they put too much stock in the prophecies of a dead man.

Then again, he believed in Nerissa's prophecies, and to be blunt, she was borderline insane. What made Sandwich any different?

Gregor noticed that his legs had led him straight to the museum, so he ran to the back of the room as fast as he could, where he knew the oldest relics of the Overland lay. Sure enough, Sandwich's sword, a beautiful, shining blade embossed with jewels, was leaning on the wall in the far corner. Gregor quickly snatched it up and secured it to his belt, before grabbing one of the lanterns that hung on the wall (_After all, they could easily replace it_, he reasoned to himself), and returned to the practice room.

Ripred was waiting there impatiently, gnawing on a rock. When the rat heard Gregor's footsteps, he snarled, "Finally! Took you a while!"

Gregor stopped and put his hands on his knees, catching his breath. Ripred noticed, for he commented, "Rest a little, Overlander. You'll need to be prepared."

When Gregor could breathe a little easier, Ripred nudged the door open with his nose, while gesturing for him to walk over. Then, there was a flash of white, and the gray rat was thrown to the side.

"Ripred!" Gregor cried, pulling out his sword and quickly running into the room, his rager senses already beginning to take over.

When he saw the Bane, they took full control of his body.

The once-innocent pup that easily fit in his arms was replaced by a hulking mass of muscle. The only thing that Gregor could fit to his image from a couple months ago was the white coat.

_That ball of fluff over there will be full grown by the time you've seen another winter._

Under the light of the lantern, the fur shone, sparkling many different colors.

In fact, Gregor was so mesmerized by the coat that he almost missed the Bane, who had lunged towards him in an attempt to tear out his throat. As it was, the rager within Gregor saved him yet again; his sword moved in a blur, shearing off two of the Bane's claws, who retreated more into the room, nursing his wounds.

He was astonished. Gregor knew that Sandwich's blade was of good quality, but to be able to slice through hard bone that quickly...

The Bane, who had recovered, lunged towards Gregor again, who attempted to shear off more of the Bane's claws. Instead, the white rat swung his other paw, cuffing Gregor's head and sending him flying.

As Gregor soon discovered, it hurt to collide with stone walls. A lot.

His head spinning and grip on Sandwich's sword loose, he almost missed the follow-up slash. As it was, Gregor only managed to partially deflect the paw, which scraped at his arm and left burning streaks of pain. The Warrior ignored the pain, retreating into himself.

_I am stone. I am untouchable._

The image of a stone knight, which he had seen in the Cloisters once on a trip with his dad (jeez, that felt like it had happened so long ago), suddenly pervaded his mind. That was what Gregor was. Unbreakable.

In a motion too fast to register with the human eye, Gregor thrust his sword forward, deep into the Bane's chest, who had not expected Gregor to recover that quickly. The jeweled sunk deep, through flesh and bone, and finally, through the heart. Gregor gave his blade a little twist, ensuring that the Bane was dead.

Finally, the Warrior relaxed, safe in the knowledge that the King of the Rats would not be able to terrorize the Underland. Ever.

That was his undoing.

The Bane, who still possessed a little time, swiped his claws powerfully, raking Gregor's chest. He was thrown to the side, colliding with a stone wall for the third time that day, and bouncing painfully back onto the lantern, which he had left on the ground near the door.

Gregor coughed painfully, bringing up blood. He was dazed and in severe pain, the final mark of the Bane burning like a brand.

The Bane was dead.

And he, Gregor was dying.

He knew that most likely, he would not survive these wounds. Even now, he felt the light in him receding, replaced by an all-encompassing darkness.

The image of the stone knight came back to his mind. Gregor drew strength from it, a sense of calm no living being could have possibly given him.

He was done. After three prophecies, he was finally done.

The image of Luxa appeared before his eyes. Her vibrant purple eyes, the silvery-blond hair falling to her shoulders. The gold band set on her head, her laugh. A light shone behind her, and he reached out, wanting so desperately to join her.

As Gregor drew what he knew was his final breath, he smiled...

Everything was fading...

To...

Black...

XXXXX

He awoke with a start.

Gregor the Overlander, Warrior, Rager, was bound a chair in the dungeons.

And, his chest burned like hell.

All in all, the day wasn't going too well for him.

He moaned, a pitiful sound, before slumping back into the chair. He feebly tried to raise a hand, but the chains prevented him from doing so.

Then, he heard a _very_ familiar voice.

"Ah, the sleeping baby finally arises."

"Ripred? What... happened?" he managed to rasp out.

"Well, the Bane managed to surprise me and knock me into the wall hard enough for me to lose consciousness, quite embarrassing, that. From what I can tell, the Underlanders found you and stitched together your chest. Your heart stopped numerous times, apparently. Even now, they are not fully sure whether you will live."

Gregor coughed, causing flecks of blood to fly through the air. "Then... why the bloody hell... am I tied to this chair?" He attempted to struggle again, only to cause his chest to burn more.

_Stupid Bane._

"To be honest, I'm not sure either why they've locked you up. From the looks of it, you should be in the hospital." Ripred's snide tone began to turn more serious. "Do you want to hear my theory on it?"

"Sure..." Gregor responded.

"There's a prophecy in the prophecy room. Apparently, it's the last one about you, the Warrior. It... well, I suppose that it wouldn't hurt to tell you now. It predicts your death."

Ripred allowed those words to sink in a little, before continuing.

"It also predicts that you will kill the Bane. More specifically, that _the monster's blood will be spilled_, or something along those lines. Now, you can see the obvious problem. Prophecy says you're supposed to die. But, you haven't.

"So, the Underlanders decide. Sandwich's prophecy _must_ be true, correct? Thus, they must kill you, to fulfill the prophecy."

"What?!" Gregor struggled for a third time, regretting it immediately. "No. They wouldn't kill me. Mareth, Solovet, Vikus..."

His voice dropped in volume, becoming as gentle as Gregor's hoarse voice could get.

"Luxa..."

"I'm sorry, Overlander." Ripred's tone of voice seemed to be genuinely regretful. "It's the only thing that makes sense. And, the worst part is, I can't even free you. We gnawers don't have teeth or claws strong enough to break through metal."

"I'm sorry."

With those uncharacteristically soft words, Ripred left.

Gregor refused to believe it.

"No..." he muttered to himself. "No, no, no. There _has_ to be some other rational explanation for it. They can't possibly be about to execute me."

But, in his heart, Gregor knew it was true.

After all, when was Ripred ever wrong?

And ever so slightly, a shard of ice began to work its way into his chest, cutting through muscle and bone, finally resting in his heart.

In that moment, the Warrior's spirit shattered.

**A/N: Alright, hopefully what happened makes sense. PM me if you want an explanation by yours truly. And to AresTheUnderlander, no, I'm not Nerissa; I wish I was, though. Predicting the future would be amazing, and all my friends think I'm crazy, anyways. :)**

**And no, Luxa is not dead. It's a hallucination by Gregor.**

**Oh, yeah. I know it doesn't make sense for Luxa to want to kill Gregor – after all, they're in love. Duh. And Vikus and the others. It'll all make sense.**

**No one knows about Ripred being there. He went in secret to tell Gregor. Yes, Ripred can sneak around. :P**

**Here's a (not so) little teaser for next chapter:**

"Gregor the Underlander, you are hereby sentenced to death for treason."

Gregor resisted the guards who attempted to drag him back into his cell to prepare for execution. Instead, he locked eyes with Luxa. The purple that had been so soft and beautiful, that had laughed, was replaced with something cold and hard.

In one fluid motion, Gregor ripped off his shirt, exposing the still-red scars. The audience gasped at the sight, but the Overlander didn't notice. Her eyes, full of anger and disgust, was all that he could see.

In that moment, hatred was born in Gregor's heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Shattered**

**Chapter Three: Judge, Jury, and Executioner**

**A/N: Sorry this is late. Not very good quality, either; I'll go back and edit the other chapters at some point in the future, _then_ post new chapters. Once again, my apologies. (These blasted allergies aren't helping, either.)**

It had been three days. Three long, trying days since the death of the Bane, since Gregor's fight and subsequent imprisonment.

For Gregor, it was not long enough.

At first, he had been wondering whether Ripred had been lying, or, as the rat seemed to do quite frequently, holding back information. However, Gregor trusted that, between ragers, Ripred would not lie about such a thing.

Plus, didn't the Council want to execute him for not following one of their prophecies? Hadn't Nerissa been the only reason that he had survived?

If there was one thing about the Underland, it was that they really loved their prophecies. It wouldn't be that hard to kill a worthless Overlander to ensure that Sandwich's words would be followed.

_When the Warrior has been killed_

The line echoed through his head, haunting his thoughts and his dreams. Various images and scenarios, where the Bane ripped out his throat or killed him in some other, horrendously gruesome manner, constantly sprung up. It was all Gregor to do not to vomit. The vicious, throbbing scars on his chest didn't help too much, either.

Nerissa had brought him a copy of the prophecy after Gregor's first day in the dungeons, along with some medicine for his chest. Apparently, he had been out for two or three weeks, enough time for opinion to polarize amongst the Underlanders. Most likely, it was a hopeless case; Sandwich's words were much too revered, and would definitely be carried out. Ironically, Nerissa, a seer herself, was the only person in Regalia supporting Gregor. Not even Luxa (the thought of her brought pangs to his chest not associated with the scars) would spare him. At least, that's what Ripred said, when he came over to visit.

Now, Gregor was sitting in front of the Council, hearing the charge of treason brought onto his head.

"...bringing a dangerous rat underneath our tunnels..."

Honestly. It was _Ripred_ that had brought the Bane beneath the tunnels, not he. How would Gregor have been able to miraculously spirit a rat of that size into the dungeons, then kill it? How was Gregor supposed to have coerced the Bane in the first place, with no access to it and no record of leaving Regalia during any of his trips that summer?

"We shall now vote on the fate of the Overlander. Queen Luxa, what is your say?"

Oops. He hadn't been listening, and had missed the chance to defend himself.

Gregor looked up for the first time that day, locking eyes with Luxa, who had the final say over his life. Luxa would spare him, right?

Truth be told, he was doubtful. The unyielding stone that he met with was nothing like the warm smiles and laughter from just a couple weeks ago, during Hazard's birthday.

Or was it all an act?

He was driving himself insane with all the questions and self-doubt. Luxa would spare his life. He knew she would. After all they had been through, there was no way she would act any other way.

Her mouth opened, and slowly, her verdict was spoken.

"Gregor the Underlander, you are hereby sentenced to death for treason."

Gregor resisted the guards who attempted to drag him back into his cell to prepare for execution. Instead, he locked eyes with Luxa. The purple that had been so soft and beautiful, that had laughed, was replaced with something cold and hard.

In one fluid motion, Gregor ripped off his shirt, exposing the still-red scars. The audience gasped at the sight, but the Overlander didn't notice. Her eyes, full of disgust and anger, was all that he could see.

In that moment, hatred was born in Gregor's heart.

XXXXX

Eyes open. Sense of vertigo. Pain. More pain.

Wrists chafing.

Rope.

Thoughts. Not coherent.

Couldn't think.

Cliff.

Stake.

Shirtless.

Silence.

Words. Someone speaking.

"...shall now be executed for treason..."

Wasn't his fault.

Not his fault.

Wrong. He did nothing wrong.

Right?

Wrong.

No tears. Dry eyes. Dry cheeks.

Sword.

Slice.

No more ropes.

Shove.

Falling.

Falling.

Wind.

Impact.

Darkness.

XXXXX

"Gregor the Overlander... awake..."

Blearily, Gregor opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings to the best of his ability. It was almost pitch black, but Gregor could barely make out the form of a person, standing over him, and a bat in the corner.

"Overlander. You must bathe and dress. You are needed."

Gregor's head spun with dizziness and exhaustion. Hadn't he been executed? Was this heaven?

_How many times have I been woken up in the past few days?_ he wryly thought. _Can't I just catch a good night's sleep?_

Then, he stood, and all of his sarcastic thoughts fled, replaced with...

...no pain?

Gregor looked down at his chest, but was unable to see his scars. He ran his hand over his chest, feeling for the now-familiar five scars, but they were gone, replaced with smooth, uninterrupted skin.

What the hell had happened?


End file.
